A Snake within the Lion's Den
by Chowlini
Summary: A Dramione, where Draco finds himself growing feelings for Hermione of the Gryffindor house. This Fanfiction takes place during their 5th year.
1. Chapter One: Hopeless Desire

**Chapter One: Hopeless Desire**

"She _will _be mine," Draco hissed under his breath as he paced anxiously around the Slytherin Common Room, sweat gathering on the creases of his palms. "I _will_ have her!"

The clock's hands were just peeking at 12:00 A.M.. Malfoy was one of the few Slytherins left in the overly green and silver room. A few of the others were sneaking glances at Draco over their books, but they turned away as his eyes scanned over them in a sinister glare.

After Malfoy had been pacing for at least an hour, his closest friend Blaise Zabini got up from his lounging chair and leaned against the closest wall to Draco. His dark skin blended him fairly well with the shadows of the room, but his stainless white teeth were perfectly visible in his trademark smile.

"_Who_, Drake? _Who_ on Earth could _you_, of all people, want?" Blaise said casually with an eyebrow raised, his arms crossed against his fit chest. Draco spun around to meet him; his gray eyes were alit with fury, with no exception to this - even to his closest friend.

"Isn't it obvious?" He growled, fists clenching in an attempt to control his anger. Blaise shrugged, waiting for him to go on. Draco didn't hesitate.

Through the shadows, he crept closer to Blaise until they were eye-to-eye, nose-to-nose…Draco's face was distorted with a mixture of emotions; anger, rage, jealousy, and a desire he seemed unable to fulfill.

"That Granger girl, you stupid git!" Malfoy seethed through his clenched teeth, breathing hot air down Blaise's muscled neck.

At first, Blaise began to chuckle as if Draco was joking. But when Malfoy didn't smirk, or even laugh, his mouth gapped. "Oh…oh no. Drake, quit pulling my leg. You…you've _got_ to be kidding."

Draco looked as if he were about to punch in his best friend's face.

"You're serious, then?"

Hesitantly, Malfoy nodded, though his temper did not once fault. His gray eyes remained locked with Zabini's.

Blaise stared in disbelief for at least a minute before his eyes flickered around the room, his mouth trying desperately to form words, but to no success. He simply stood there, mouth agape.

Malfoy's eyebrows furrowed as his gray eyes pierced through Blaise, waiting for him to accept the fact. Short tempered as he was, however, he couldn't take more than ten minutes of Blaise's drooping jaw, and slapped it together.

"_Ouch!_" Cried Blaise, quickly covering his jaw with his hand as if he expected to be struck again. "_What was tha-_…I'm sorry, Drake. I, er…well, you can get any girl, can't you, mate? Granger isn't any different. Just…you know, win her over. It'll, erm, be a snap. Yeah, a snap," Draco didn't look convinced, but he did most definitely look irritated.

"I'm not going to be able to get this Granger girl alone, Blaise," Draco said, his lips beginning to curl into a sly smirk. He clapped one of his pale hands on Blaise's stiff shoulders. Blaise's fake smile had quickly faded. Sure, he was a flirt…but no, oh no, he flat-out refused to get a girl's attention if it wasn't for himself. He shook his head defiantly.

"Hell no, Draco! You're not getting me to do anything. Do it yourself, Drake," Blaise said as he straightened up on the wall.

Malfoy chuckled.

"Oh yes, yes you are, Blaise. We've been friends since we were little. And friends help each other, right? That's what you always say," Grinning, Draco murmured with his eyebrows raised curiously. Blaised bit his lip…that was something he often used on Draco. Of course, it just _had_ to come and bite him in the ass in the end.

**Hey everyone! Thanks oodles for reading. :) This is my first HP fanfiction, and since I'm new I'd love reviews and critique (good and bad). This is, of course, just the first chapter. I'll be continueing it soon! Enjoy. ^^**


	2. Chapter Two: Catch her Fancy

**Chapter Two: "Catch her Fancy"**

It'd been a week since Draco had discussed his feelings for Hermione with Blaise, and still he had done nothing to pursue them. Blaise, knowing that if he didn't help he would be in for it, decided to help. Only a bit, and definitely nothing more. He cared for his friends, but he didn't want to bother with Draco's problems. He was already too busy with himself.

On their way down the stone-cold staircase to the Dungeons for Double Potions with Snape, Blaise nudged Draco hard in the ribs as Hermione passed. Draco doubled over and glared through the strands of his bleach-blond hair crossly.

"I can see her, you stupid git," Draco said bitterly as he gathered himself and stood arrogantly straight again, nose high in the air.

"Then why don't you do something? Smile, wave, wink, you know? Catches most girl's fancy every time," Blaise replied casually while turning and winking at a Ravenclaw girl with flowing blond hair as she passed, walking up the staircase. She flushed a rosey pink and squealed to the girl next to her, whose eyes flickered backward for a glance of Blaise. Both girls trotted up the stairs, giggling passionately.

"See?"

Draco rolled his cold gray eyes and walked forward. Blaise quickly followed suit after he realized Malfoy was walking off; he'd been flashing brilliant grins to a few Hufflepuff girls, and hadn't seen him trudge off.

"Cheer up, Drake. Hermione is bound to be yours. I mean, look at you!" A trademark Slytherin smirk spread across Blaise's face as his eyes traveled up and down Draco's body. "Tall, lean-" He grabbed Draco's arm and forced it to flex his biceps. His black robes fell with the slant of his arm, down to his shoulder, exposing the muscles throughout his fit arms. Unable to hide a smile, he pulled his arm tight, his biceps bulging and thickening. "Muscular, too, might I add? You've got it, and now all you have to do is give it to Herm-"

Suddenly, he stopped, his mouth parted slightly in surprise.

There, in the doorway to the dungeon's corridor, stood a thin girl with large, brown eyes, fair skin, and extremely wavey and long brown hair. Both boys recognized her immediately; it was Hermione. For a moment, she sipmly stood there silent with her arms crossed across her chest and one eyebrow raised. Finally, she broke the awkward silence.

Blaise wished she hadn't.

"Honestly? You've been standing out here gawking at how muscular the other is? Pathetic," Hermione said, finishing the sentence with an amused laugh. "Snape sent me out here to collect you; you do realize you're over ten minutes late for class? We could hear you throughout the entire lesson, laughing and snickering. _I _don't want to know what you've been up to," Her brown eyes, Draco noticed, twinkled with a bit of naughty jokery; Draco and Blaise knew what she was suggesting. Blaise stuck out his tongue in disgust and protest, but Draco simply chuckled a bit to himself and grinned slightly at her. "But Snape wants you in his classroom. He's taken 5 points from each of you already, but he said that if you don't hurry up and get yourselves in his class, he'll be keen to take away a far greater amount."

With that, she spun on her heel and returned to the Potions Classroom, her dark hair flowing behind her as the sound of her footsteps disappeared. Draco looked at Blaise out of the corner of his eye when she was surely gone.

Blaise was tenderly biting his lip, a confused look spread across his handsome face.

"Remind me _why_ you like _her?_" He finally spat.

Draco smiled at Blaise; a real smile, not a smirk or a grin, but a true smile. Puzzled, Blaise stared as Draco slung his knapsack over his shoulder and walked through the doorway and into his Potions Class, his gray eyes occasionally darting toward Hermione's seat.

**I hope you guys are enjoying my fanfiction! I had nothing to do today so I decided to add another chapter. Please review and respond and what not! I appreciate it. :)**


	3. Chapter Three: A Fight in the Forest

**Chapter Three: A Fight in the Forest**

Potions class was long, as usually, but enjoyable, none the less. Blaise and Draco watched from their seats as Professor Snape gave Potter, again, zero marks for the day, and smacked the back of Ron's head with a thick book entitled _"Potions; a Guide for beginners"._ The two of them, along with Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle, snickered and cackled loudly in unison with the other Slytherins. He just _loved_ to see Potter picked on, especially by his head of house, who wasn't merciful on that stupid boy what-so-ever.

After Professor Snape dismissed them, they slowly packed their quills and books into their knapsacks, taking extra long simply to watch the pleasing moment when Snape called Potter to the front, and continued to discipline him. He could pick out some extraordinarily harsh words that sent pleased chills down his spine as he smirked mockingly at Potter before exiting the room, Blaise on his tail.

Blaise smiled and rubbed his hands together as they walked stride-for-stride toward the Slytherin Common Room. "Lunch time!" He said, grinning, and licking his lips. Draco chuckled and rubbed his stomach; he was quite hungry himself.

When they reached their common room, they threw their knapsacks onto their beds and quickly exited, nearly running to the Great Hall for a highly-craved lunch.

Pansy waved as the pair entered, smiling at both of them as they regained their composure. Draco nodded in her direction, but didn't bother to glance at her. Blaise waved at Pansy, and as they strolled up the pathway to their seats, he winked at a few Slytherin girls and flashed a handsome crooked grin at a dainty Hufflepuff girl across two tables, who fainted and was caught by her best friend. She looked astonished.

Just as they sat down, bowls with mounds of food appeared in front of them, spoons at the ready to serve the delectable dishes. Blaise sat down, smoothing his black robes over his legs before helping himself to the food. Draco was equally hungry, but stared at the food with a lack of interest.

"Poodins' grat," Blaise said through a mouthful of chocolate pudding. Reaching across the table, he grabbed the bowl and held it out to Draco, who simply waved his hand and sent it away.

Swallowing the large mouthful of pudding, Blaise watched while Draco nonchalantly twirled a fork between his fingers. "What's wrong?" He asked, taking the fork from Draco and forcing him to look up into his eyes. Shrugging, Draco looked at him briefly before staring at his empty plate again.

"You haven't eaten," Blaise insisted, shoving the bowl of pudding at him again.

Draco shrugged again. "I'm not hungry."

Blaise laughed at this. "Yes you are. I can hear your stomach growl!"

Finally, Draco's gaze shifted from his plate to Blaise. His gray eyes were lit with infuriation, and before Blaise knew what was happening, a pasty, frigid hand was curled around his throat.

"_I'M. NOT. HUNGRY._" Draco hissed through his clenched teeth, his grip growing tighter. Panicking, Blaise tried desperately to pry Draco's firm hand from his throat, sputtering pleading words.

"Drake! Let…go!!" His dark fingers continued to fumble with effort, until finally Draco released him. Panting, Blaise stared at him, bewildered. A red outline of a hand was just visible around the base of his neck. Hesitantly, he skimmed a finger over the hot red area, and felt a sharp sting. "What was _that_ for?!" He shouted with his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.

Draco glowered at him through his blond hair, his lips twitching with hostility. "Listen to me next time," He said indifferently, then rose from his chair and left the room, walking to the Slytherin Common Room to get his knapsack for the remaining classes.

Not long after, Blaise followed him into the boy's dormitory, still quite frustrated with him. "Do you want to tell me what's up?" He snapped.

Draco simply ignored his question as he picked up his bag from his bed and threw it over his shoulder. As he approached the door, he leaned against the doorway, biting on his cheek. "Come on, we've got Care of Magical Creatures in ten minutes," He said casually. Blaise was surprised he was even talking to him like nothing was wrong, but didn't bother questioning him. He quickly grabbed his bag, and then met Draco at the door. "I'm so glad that stupid oaf Hagrid is gone," Draco mumbled as they exited the common room. Blaise gruffly nodded.

The autumn air was cool outside, with several leaves blustering in the short breezes that occasionally rolled by and blew Draco's hair around his face. Around them the atmosphere was damp, as well was the ground beneath them. Light gray clouds heavily dappled the sky above, with very little sunlight peeking through the thick coating. The walk to Hagrid's cabin was absent of all conversation, a stinging awkward silence floating around the two of them.

Beside Hagrid's Cabin, a tall, thin woman that was Professor Grubbly-Plank stood in dark brown robes, waiting for the class to assemble. Draco and Blaise, being early, sat on Hagrid's stairs as they waited for the others.

Slowly, students appeared from the Great Hall, until all the Gryffindor and Slytherin students taking the class had mobbed together forming a large group of black. Professor Grubbly-Plank smiled at them all before speaking.

"Professor Umbridge and the Ministry insist we reeducate ourselves on a few creatures that we learned last year," She paused and gestured a hand toward a corral near the hut; a corral that once held Buckbeak. Draco's face became immediately disgruntled as he thought of that fowl, overgrown bird…thing. It'd attacked him and he swore he'd make sure it was killed; but yet the stupid creature managed to escape just before its execution. Potter, he thought, was probably responsible for its escape.

"In the corral you'll see an adult unicorn and a young colt accompanying the mare. I managed to get these two from the Forbidden Forest over the weekend. However, as you learned, the adults are not fond of males, so please, boys, don't go near her. The colt, however, is approachable. If one of you girls could lure the mother away from her baby with this," She handed a Ravenclaw girl a carrot. "Then the boys could have some time examining the colt. When you're done, I'd like you all to draw a diagram of the unicorn and give me a short essay on the powers of a unicorn and why they are vital to our society. That is all. Get to work, please."

All the girls scuttled over to the dazzling white mother, whose coat seemed to sparkle in the dim light from the darkened sky. She emitted a soft whinny as she munched on the carrot and enjoyed the gentle strokes from the hands of the awestruck girls. Even though they'd seen unicorns before, they couldn't help but be astonished by the unicorn's abounding beauty.

The boys were huddled around the small colt, its black coat gleaming with rays from the sun. It neighed and trotted gleefully as the Gryffindor males stroked and tossed apples in the air for it to catch. The Slytherins, on the other hand, were not impressed. A few of them were enjoying the view of the colt, but the majority of them were simply leaning on the fence, and a few were starting on their homework. Draco looked at the unicorn, and uninterested in beast, walked away, motioning for Blaise to follow.

"Where are we going?" Blaise murmured as he walked quietly behind him.

Draco smirked at him as he continued to tip-toe toward the Forbidden Forest. Blaise then realized where they were off to; he grinned from ear to ear, and quickly picked up his pace.

They entered the thickly overgrown forest through a hole in the undergrowth, ducking under thorny vines and hopping over large, fallen trees. The entire forest smelt of dew and damp moss; it was an extremely earthy smell that Draco enjoyed. After about five minutes they came across a small clearing, where they sat in the few strands of light that beamed through the canopies of the trees above. It was a relaxing place. The two friends rested stumps and let their eyes droop, the wafting scents of wood and fresh rain calming them both.

Suddenly, the sound of a twig snapping interrupted their relaxation.

"Who's there?!" Draco growled menacingly, gripping the wand in his pocket firmly. Blaise too had pulled out his wand and pressed his back against Draco's as they circled the area, straining their eyes for the cause of the snapping twig. Finally, Blaise spotted it.

"There," Blaise whispered, nudging Draco lightly in the side. Draco spun on his heel and strained his eyes to where Blaise pointed with his wand; two cloaked figures were coming down the side of a slope, and both were laughing hard.

As they came closer, Draco's apprehensive expression quickly changed into one of absolute ire. "Dirty little Weasley and attention-seeking Potter?" He spat at them as they approached, his lips curled into a dark smirk.

Weasley's ears instantly went red, but Potter pulled him forward at his side. He pushed his untidy black hair out of his face and approached, glaring at Zabini and Malfoy.

"What are you doing in the woods, Malfoy? I don't remember the Professor telling us to wander out in the woods; you're a Prefect, you ought to listen to her or you'll lose your badge," Potter smiled. "Or maybe you should keep this up. I think the whole school would benefit if you lost your Prefect privileges."

Draco's cold eyes fired up yet another time that day. His fists clenched as he stomped up to Potter and Weasley, locking eyes with Potter. "I wouldn't be talking, Potter. My father tells me you've got a hot temper just like your father, and just as troublesome, too. Haven't got any mind for the rules, have you? How would your filthy mudblood mother feel if she knew how you behaved?"

Draco had struck a nerve; Harry pounced on him, grabbing the shoulder of his robes and punching him hard in the mouth. Wincing, Draco yelled out in pain and retaliated hard. He brought his fist hard into Potter's shoulder twice, then once up and into his jaw. Shouts of pain and anger now filled the serene forest, as droplets of crimson blood fell onto the dead red leaves engulfing the forest floor.

Zabini and Weasley now locked eyes; Blaise couldn't resist taking this opportunity. "Those second-hand robes, Weasley?" He said mockingly, crossing his arms on his chest and raising an eyebrow. "Why do I even bother asking? Of course they are! Your family hasn't got a galleon to their name, have they?"

That was the last straw for Ron; he ran head-on at Blaise; but a fist met him before he could even do any damage. He flew backward, nose throbbing and a cold liquid trickling down his front. Hesitantly, he put his hand to his nose…blood heavily doused his hand and dripped down on his wrist. "Bloody hell!" Under his breath, he murmured, but got to his feet, wiping the blood on his robes. He went for Blaise again, but Blaise couldn't possibly risk ruining his looks. As Weasley flew at him with ready fists, he punched him again, this time in the eye. The fiery-tempered red-head fell back again, wincing and shouting swears of anger. This time, however, he got up faster and ran at him one last time. But Blaise was prepared again. He kicked him hard in the shin, and Ron doubled over and fell to the ground.

"Had enough, Weasley?" Blaise said tauntingly, rolling up his sleeves. He was panting slightly, but overall was unscathed. Ron looked up at him and groaned, furiously rubbing his leg.

Harry and Draco were just stopping their quarrel; both were bleeding and bruised, and their lengthy hair was askew. Just as Harry began to fix his glasses on his nose, he heard Professor Grubbly-Plank announcing the end of class. He got to his feet, glared at Malfoy, and helped Ron up. The two of them left the forest, and not long after, Malfoy and Zabini exited.

The four of them came into the clearing, only to be met by a girl with long, frizzy brown hair and eyes gleaming with fear. She rushed to Harry and Ron as soon as they emerged from the thick forest. Harry was supporting Ron as he limped at his side, blood still trickling down from his nose, and his eye was a dark black and blue.

"_Ron!" _The young girl cried as she approached; Draco recognized her immediately and his heart panged unwillingly. It was Hermione, Harry and Ron's closest friend. Truthfully, Draco was envious of them. They got to spend each day with her, while she hated his guts.

"_Oh,_ _Harry!_ _Ron!_ Are you alright! Who did this to-" She paused as she spotted Draco and Blaise crawling from the Forbidden Forest. With her fists clenched, she spun on her heel and trudged toward them, her face reddening with fury.

"_You! You two!"_ Hermione screamed, pointing her fingers at the both of them. "How…how could you do such a thing!? I knew you were sick and foul, and down-right pathetic, but this?! I...I'm giving you both detentions! Seven o'clock tomorrow in Professor McGonagall's classroom!" She shouted, then turned promptly and went to Ron and Harry, performing several spells to ease their pain as much as she could.

Draco watched her for a moment with burning eyes. He wasn't sure if they were burning from his anger, or from his disgust in himself. No, not for beating up Potter and Weasley, he was quite proud of that, actually. But he hadn't thought it through…and that was just another bad thing for Hermione to see in him. Sighing, he nudged Blaise, and together they returned to the castle.

As he lay in bed that night, Draco pondered restlessly. He didn't want to change, and he most certainly didn't want to befriend Potter and Weasley. But…he'd never wanted to spend time with a Gryffindor girl so much before, if he had at all. Angry, disappointed, feeling every possible emotion except the happy ones, he slowly drifted into an antagonizing slumber.

**Thanks so much to those of you who have reviewed! I've made the chapters longer, by request, though I was planning on making them longer anyhow. Hope this suits you guys! Review, please! It really helps. Enjoy! :)**


	4. Chapter Four: Replacement of Potter

**Chapter Four: Replacement of Potter**

Draco woke the next morning with a bubbling, nauseous feeling rousing his insides. The sun had not yet rose, and the other Slytherin boys rooming with him in the dormitory, Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise, remained sound asleep.

With the aid of stealth, he crept from his four-poster lined with green curtains. He slipped on his shoes, threw on his robe, and grabbed a small bag containing shampoo, conditioner, and soap. Draco silently withdrew from the room and trotted cautiously down the stairs until he reached the Slytherin common room. After he left the room he made for the boys' bathroom, hoping he'd be the only one in the bathroom that morning.

Fortunately for him, he was alone. He dropped his things on the counter and stared into the mirror…his stunning blond hair was shadowing his pale face, blocking out all light but a few streaks from the light bulbs above the mirror. They reflected and glistened in his gray eyes…he looked uncannily like his father; sinister and malicious, and not one to be tampered with.

Draco's mouth strained as he stared back at himself.

His father was notoriously known for pressuring others into the things he wanted. He was known as a liar, and a sly, violent death eater.

Hermione hated his father. And she had a right to believe that he was the same…he certainly behaved like it.

A sudden pulse of anger flooded through his body and he raised his fist._ I am not my father! _His mind hissed while his fist collided with the mirror, causing glass to shatter onto the counter with a series of crashes. He hadn't realized it, but his chest was rising and falling at a severely fast pace.

Steadily, Draco began to calm down. He slid his hand into the pocket of his robes and pulled out his wand, muttering, "_Reparo"._ The glass pieces began to shift back into place as if nothing had ever happened.

Draco grabbed the bag with his belongings and made for one of the shower stalls. He stopped at the last one, swinging open the door and tossing the bag onto the small bench inside. "Why am I so angry lately?" In a groan, he said to himself while unclasping the buttons on his robes. He took the dark material in his hands and hung it on a small hook protruding from the white wall.

Left in a white collared, button-up shirt with a loose green and silver tie and black pants, he leaned against the wall and sighed heavily. _I just…I just want her to look at me. Just once._ Honestly, he couldn't believe he was thinking this. But he couldn't stop the thoughts from coming to him occasionally when he had no schoolwork to distract him.

Even further frustrated, he hastily untied his tie and threw it to the ground. He slid his fingers to the top of his shirt and began to undo the buttons until he reached the bottom. As the last button came loose, his shirt came open to reveal his perfectly toned abs and muscular chest. Draco pulled it from his arms and dropped it to the tile floor. Afterward he unzipped his pants and they dropped, too.

Draco picked up the clothes and piled them beside the bag on the bench. He drew the curtain between him and the benched portion of the stall, then moved to the far back where the shower head stood erect and ready to stream hot water onto his sore body.

Raising a hand to the handle, he turned it on to full heat. Steaming water began to flow from the shower head, dousing his body in comforting warmth. Draco sighed aloud while the steam engulfed the stall and rose upward toward the ceiling.

A few minutes went by before he reached around the curtain for the shampoo. He squeezed the bottle lightly until a small amount of cool gel pooled in his palm, then returned the bottle back to the bench with his free hand. Draco then began to rub his hands together and the gel began to curiously foam. He raised his palms to his damp blond hair, scratching his scalp with his finger tips as he mixed the shampoo into his hair. Slowly, his lips began to curl into a satisfied smile. When he was certain he'd scrubbed enough, Draco leaned backward into the pearling water and allowed it to wash the suds from the top of his head.

Afterward, he reached past the curtain again for the conditioner. Doing the same as before, he palmed the creamy substance before returning the bottle. Then, he interlocked his fingers and ran them together, before running the insides of his fingers through individual locks of light, soft hair. Almost instantly, his hair became lush and a wonderful to the touch. For a few moments, he ran his hands down his head, occasionally twirling a strand around his fingers.

For the first time in days he felt relaxed. The feeling washed over him alongside the scorching rush of water; a soft moan escaped his throat as he bathed in the searing pleasure. He absentmindedly reached pass the curtain once more for the white bar of soap, which he rubbed gently between his palms. It began to spawn sudsy bubbles that concealed every inch of his hands. He rubbed the froth first across his chest, then slowly moving his hands down into the crevices of his abs and across his stomach. Stretching his arms, he reached for his backside and lathered it, too. With the remaining froth, he covered his neck and arms, and scrubbed his face thoroughly. He let the warm coating soak into his skin before shifting back into the water. White bubbles rolled off his skin, pushed down by the steaming water.

Feeling clean, he sneaked his arm past the curtain for final time to return the soap. Something cold just barely brushed his hand, slinking quickly away at his unexpected touch. Curious, Draco grabbed the curtain, holding it over his body while peering around it with only his head.

"I thought I might find you here," Came a casual voice.

"Blaise?" Draco snapped as his vision just came into focus. There was Blaise, leaning against the wall with a listless face. "What the hell are you doing in my shower stall?!"

Blaise looked up from examining his hand. His eyes, which usually glittered with amusement, were quite blank of his expected cheer. "Generally, you wait for me every day to go to the showers," He said with a raised eyebrow. "You've been awfully quiet the past few days, too. What's up with you?"

Draco's eyebrows furrowed with anger, his gray eyes loosing their calm glow and quickly replaced with irritation. "I woke up early," His response was curt. "My throat's been a bit sore. It hurts to speak-"

"Don't take me for an idiot, Drake," Blaise interrupted, rolling his eyes and folding his arms across his chest. "We grew up together. I can tell when something's wrong. And," He chuckled to himself. "You have quite the voice to beat down on Potter and Weasley in the corridors. I know you haven't got a sore throat."

Draco glared at him, grabbing his towel without breaking eye contact. He wrapped it quickly around his waist and stepped out from behind the drape. "Leave me be," He warned defiantly. Blaise sighed and shrugged; this infuriated Draco. At first, he made to punch him, but drew back his fist and grabbed his bag instead. It collapsed under the pressure of his straining fists. Blaise pursued him, keeping a quick pace behind him until he was equal with him. He grabbed his arm, preventing him from walking any further.

"What do you want?!" Snapped Draco as he rounded on him, his face hot with rage.

Blaise locked eyes with him. For once, he was extremely serious.

"I know what this is about," He said softly.

"No, no you don't, Blaise!"

Blaise closed his eyes, breathing deeply before looking up again. "It's about Granger, isn't it?"

Draco grew stiff instantly. The moisture in his mouth dried up, his throat actually aching now. "Yes…" He mumbled through tightly shut jaws.

"I know," Blaise sighed audibly. "I know that you regret what you did during Care of Magical Creatures."

"I do not," Draco retaliated. "Potter and Weasley deserved that…snooping around like that. Do they ever keep their noses in their own business?"

A deformed laughter came from Blaise for a few moments. "Naw, they don't. Haven't you learned that by now?" He was a little bit more relaxed. "Anyhow, you _do _regret making Granger angry at you, don't you?"

It took awhile before Draco nodded. "I like her, Blaise. I'm not crazy about her," He could hear Blaise remark '_because she's a mudblood_'. Draco found himself agreeing with this, not to his surprise. "But I don't want her to hate me. I want her to at least look at me."

Blaise was looking at the ground. He seemed unable to meet his friend's eyes now.

"If you don't want her to hate you," Blaise began slowly. "You're gunna have to stop picking on the two stupid prats." He choked, as if this would kill him.

When he looked up, Draco was sputtering madly and his eyes were wide.

"Stop…picking…Potter?" He just made these words. His mouth was gaping wide.

Blaise looked grim, twiddling with his thumbs as a distraction from the pain of the desperate action his friend would have to take. "If you ever want her to even look at you in a friendly way, Drake…Potter and Weasley are her closest friends. She'll stand by them…and won't befriend anyone against them."

Draco's face was red with surprise. He couldn't ever dream of getting along with Potter or Weasley. But he wanted to get along Granger.

"And I have to do this if I ever want to be near Her-…" Draco stopped abruptly. Did he…just nearly call her Hermione?

Blaise had noticed this and was staring at him, but said nothing.

"…if I ever want to be near Granger?" Draco made the quick correction.

"Yeah." Blaise said, full of gloom.

That day was subtle and dull. Blaise and Draco spent the day outside on the Hogwart's Grounds, sitting in the shade of the birch tree that loomed near the lake, casting a large, cool shadow across the overly green grass. Blaise had a piece of parchment placed over his "_Hogwarts: A History" _book and was doodling absentmindedly with a brown quill. To his right, Draco was leaning against the trunk of the tree, half-asleep.

After about an hour of bathing in the savory shade, Draco and Blaise got up and made for the Library. O.W.L.'s were half a year away, but they decided they'd review their Defense Against the Dark Arts course for a small refresher.

As they climbed the stone staircase to the Library, they Draco watched Blaise flirt with a few passing girls on their way to the grounds. He examined him closely as he did this; he'd always been a bit flirtatious, and quite popular, but he'd need to find a new way of displaying affection. A new way that would catch Hermione's eye.

They strolled into the library, knapsacks draped over their shoulders. After a few walks up and down the isles of books, they'd gathered the necessary books for studying. Then they made their way to the back of the Library, were a few tables were set up. Two of the tables were full. One was full of a mixture of Slytherin and Ravenclaw girls; the one opposite hosted none other than the golden trio.

Minutes had passed before Draco realized he was staring. Potter and Weasley, however, had noticed before he could break his gaze. "I didn't know we were _that_ good looking, Ron!" Harry mocked, sneering at Draco.

Draco's skin instantly grew hot as his fists tightened. He opened his mouth to retaliate, but his heart stabbed painfully with guilt. His gray eyes drifted while his mouth remained gaping to Hermione. Sighing, he simply glared at them and turned away.

He and Blaise sat farthest from them, but they could still clearly hear their entire conversation.

"What's gotten into him?" He heard Ron whisper, glancing suspiciously at him from across the tables.

"Probably just got a tied tongue, ya know," Harry responded, laughing to himself. "We bad-mouthed him before he got a chance to think of something to say to us."

Hermione was looking at him from over his shoulder, but said nothing.

_Restraining himself from launching over the tables and attacking Ron and Harry was about the hardest thing he'd ever have to do yet_, Draco decided.

**Thanks for reading and reviewing, guys! Here's a chapter on what Draco decides he'll have to do if he ever wants Hermione to think of him as, at least, decent. It's gunna be harder than he thought. **


	5. Chapter Five: A Rough Encounter

**Chapter Five: A Rough Encounter**

In the following week, Draco had avoided both Potter and Weasley as best as he good; which, of course, came with ignoring Hermione as well. As much as this panged him, he decided it was for his own benefit, because if he ran into her and her obnoxious little friends, he knew he wouldn't be able to restrain himself.

By now it was already mid-November. The trees had been stripped of their leafy covering; shapely red and orange leaves engulfed the moist ground below. Many of the birds had flown off the South, leaving the Hogwarts Grounds rather bare.

Today, however, the glamorous array of orange and red was slowly being covered by small, white diamonds falling gently from the fluffy clouds above. On this particular Saturday, Draco found himself carelessly finishing a Transfirguation essay while the other students ate breakfast in the Great Hall. His quill, a beautiful, gleaming black, was wobbling between his fingers while he scribbled messily onto the parchment.

Closing his eyes, he nibbled on the back of his quill, as if he expected it to give him answers if he did so. Of course, it did not. Rather annoyed, he set the quill back into the ink container messily and rose from his comfortable chair, pacing the room irritably. He stopped as he rounded a corner where a beautiful, long and clear window with iron baring was reflecting the enchanting weather from outside to him. His gray eyes traveled the length of the window before looking out into its wonders, where he paused, dazed.

It had snowed last night, he was sure. Every inch of the grounds was glazed over in a frosty mist, the lake frozen. Draco's pale lips curled into a soft smile; the sight was breath taking. From Hagrid's hut (his smile faded at the thought of that rugged half-blood) was producing a steady cloud of gray smoke, rising continuously into the air. It's dark gray shade contrasted beautifully with the shimmering white below. A better contrast, Draco considered, was the occasional owl sweeping across the vast land of snow. Its feathers, tawny, or black – it didn't matter the color – always shone brilliantly against the landscape.

"You can't hide forever, you know," Came a familiar voice from the doorway.

Draco, a bit startled, turned on his heel with his eyebrows furrowed and his gray eyes their usual coldness. He let loose, however, when he realized it was just Blaise.

"What are you doing up here?" With fake curiosity, Draco asked, leaning casually against the window. It was unmistakably cold against his back.

As usual, Blaise raised an eyebrow, approaching with a small chuckle. "That's what I was about to ask you."

Draco nibbled on his lip for a moment, and then shrugged as if it were nothing. This was a failed attempt at a lie from the start, however. Blaise knew very well what he was up to.

"Distracting yourself with homework to keep your mind off her?" As he strolled across the room toward Draco's essay, he peered up at him with an amused smirk. "Didn't work, did it?" He looked down and examined the scribbles that were supposedly words.

Draco rolled his eyes and flanked Blaise at his side, wrenching his paper from his grasp.

Blaise could simply chuckle once more.

"Look," He began. Draco made a turn to leave, but Blaise gripped him forcefully by the wrist. "You can't avoid her. It's not working, is it? She won't 'magically' fall in love with you. And the effects of a love potion can only last so long. Just look at her, Drake. Try to smile. Be friendly."

Draco's face looked similarly like it did when Hermione had hit him hard in the face years back. A large vein slowly showed itself on his forehead, pulsating madly. "I don't need you're help," He growled, his gray eyes nearly white with rage. His fists were clenched so tightly together that Blaise thought his pale skin might tear apart.

"Suit 'chaself," Answered Blaise nonchalantly, shrugging his large shoulders and releasing Draco's arm. "Breakfast is almost over. Like I said," A mischievous glint suddenly appeared in his deep, brown eyes. "You can't hide up here forever." With that, he turned and disappeared out of the common room exit in one swift motion.

Draco stared a whole into him until he was finally gone, and when he was, he sighed aloud and slumped down in the nearest convenient chair. _He could do this, all he had to do wa-_

Soft footsteps sounded just outside the common room's entrance. Shortly after, a thin girl with long, wavy brown hair entered. Dreamily, Draco met her gaze, only to gasp in surprise. What was Hermione doing in here?

But as the young girl's eyes met his, he realized they were a shocking green…she couldn't be Hermione, no. It was Eve Kamiluio, a Slytherin in the year above him.

Eve stepped back at his gasp and attempted to meet his stare, only to find herself in an utterly awkward situation.

Suddenly, he was out of his little dream land. Finding himself face-to-face with a girl that could only tempt his mind with thoughts of Hermione, he gritted his teeth and met her gaze with strong hate. "_Don't stare at me, you stupid git!!" _He spat, rising quickly from his chair. His chest was rising and falling furiously like a steam engine's piston. It seemed as if Eve were to do anything but leave, he'd pounce.

She looked at him uneasily before trotting away, taking the route that would keep her farthest from him while still leading to the girl's dorm. Not once did she break her gaze on her way to the dorm for fear of being attacked when she wasn't prepared.

Thoroughly annoyed, Draco slumped back into his cozy chair and growled to himself. _What's become of you?_ He thought miserably. _You're fantasizing, dreaming, hoping a stupid, know-it-all mudblood will come waltzing into your life. A mudblood, Draco. Get a grip…_

Sleepy eyes blinked open, greeted by an empty room occupied only by the light streaming from the dying fire. "I must have fallen asleep," Draco mumbled as he smacked his lips together, then yawned, his mouth as wide as a striking snake. He unfolded his arms, straightening them and listening to the snap of each elbow. Then he grabbed the back of his chair and pushed out his chest, his back producing a loud crack.

Feeling relieved, he arose from his chair and swept his lenghty blond hair from his face. His stomach rumbled noisily, echoing throughout the room.

"I've been in this sticky common room all day," Draco said to himself, pulling on his shirt to let a bit of air in. "Might as well go grab a snack from the grubby elves."

With long strides, he made his way for the exit and clambered through it, ending up in the dungeons on the other side. Lit by torches, the narrow, stone halls looked as eerie as ever. However, Draco was not daunted whatsoever, for a bit eerie was what he liked best.

He was quick to find the long painting of the fruits, the pair the most prominent. He reached his pale hand toward it, his manicured fingers skimming over the pear's painted surface. It produced a bubbly giggle before shifting magically into an ancient, iron door handle. A hungry Draco eagerly grasped it, swinging the door open.

Stepping inside he was greeted by the orb-like eyes that belonged to the dozens of house elves staring up at him. Their ears were long and pointed, as were their noses, and their heads seemed much too large for their scrawny bodies. He scanned over them for a moment before speaking.

"Get me something to eat," He commanded, a malicious grin slowly spreading across his light-skinned face.

A group of house elves immediately began to scramble for forks and plates and spoons, some swerving off to prepare the food. They whimpered as the scattered, some squeaking as they were accidently kicked or hit by the flailing of legs and large ears.

"The Malfoy boy is not in charge around here, sir," A small but determined voice sounded over the noise.

The rest of the elves suddenly stopped, motionless. They might not have been breathing they were so still.

Draco's gray eyes flashed with familiar coldness as he thoroughly examined the room, his eyes like a hawk's. It wasn't till he found one elf in particular, one with green tennis-ball eyes, that he stopped. His mouth twitched in either annoyance or amusement, it was hard to tell at that moment.

"Working at Hogwarts now, are you Dobby?" Draco's voice was smooth, though it was slick with vehemence. His eyes burned as he stared down the elf, whom was dressed in a shirt much too large for him, at least five socks, and hats stacked up so high he thought they might reach the ceiling.

A different voice came this time, oddly feminine. "Yes, he is."

"Who was that?!" Snapped Draco, glaring at the other elves. None of them had moved an inch, too frightened to do so.

While he was so busy trying to find the culprit amongst the elves, a tall girl had arose from her perch on the fireplace. She wove around Dobby, to whom she'd just recently been deep in conversation with, and stood at his side, locking her gaze directly on Malfoy's turned backside. "Me."

Draco spun around on his heel, his eyes unblinking as they met the owner of the voice. Everything around him stopped on the spot. The speaker was a fairly shapely girl with flowing, frizzy brown hair and illuminated brown eyes that glowed with passion for everything she held dear to her. Her eyebrows were furrowed, her lips curled downward in a frown, and her arms were crossed in front of her. Clenched in one hand was her wand. She looked purely provoked. Nonetheless, Draco knew her the moment he saw her. _Hermione._

"So," Hermione began, tapping her wand on the top of her bicep. "You think you can storm in here and boss these house elves around?"

"Yeah," Draco began, smirking a bit. "They are house elves, after all."

She flared up at once. The tapping of her wand rapidly sped up and she glared at him with immensely cold eyes. "So? So what if they're house elves! They deserve the same treatment as any witch or wizard! They've got feelings just like us! They're living and breathing, wonderful beings!"

Not able to hold it back, he chuckled, holding his stomach. A few tears edged at his eyes as he laughed hard, which he wiped away with a thin finger. "You make me laugh, Granger," He teased with a malicious grin. Hermione, however, found it the least bit funny.

"Do you know who _I_ am?" She shouted, uncrossing her arms in an angry jerk. Her hands fisted at her sides as she lunged at him. Dobby grabbed hold of her ankle to try to prevent this, but unfortunately cause her to fall flat on her face.

A roar of laughter erupted in Draco as he crept forward toward her, his smirk even longer across his face. "You're a clumsy mudblood, that's what you are," He playfully answered.

"_No!_" Hermione wailed into the floor. She didn't hear the friendliness in his voice, but only heard his stinging words. "_I'm_ the leader of S.P.E.W.! I-…I strive to make sure that House Elves are treated as equals!" She pounded her fist to the ground in her rage.

Draco realized she wasn't warming up to his playful jokes the hard way. Trying to make up for his actions, he offered his hand out to her in hopes she'd take it and he could aid her off her face.

When she looked up to his hand, her face was shocked at first. Quickly, however, it changed into a frown. "Don't take me for an idiot!" She screamed, pushing herself off the ground. "I know you would just pretend to help me up and then push me right back down again! Well damn you, Malfoy! Damn you and your entire nasty family! You're nothing but a heartless git!"

With that, she stormed out of the kitchen, her brown hair flowing hastily behind her. Tears were leaking down her face, dirt and dust from the floor drifting in the thin streams of clear water. Her entire face was red with rage and her hands were white with how tightly they were clenched into fists.

Draco watched her leave with a sudden pang of both regret and guilt. "_AGH!_" He shouted loud in the air, punching the nearest wall hard, not caring for the pain that now stabbed his hand. "_I've blown it! Blown it by being myself! She hates me more than ever, and I can't do anything about it!_"

Around him, elves began to stir again, though the majority was now staring at him, awe-struck. Dobby was glaring at him angrily with a frown plastered onto his knobbly face.

A little brown elf approached him meekly, a plate floating above her head. She tugged gently on his black robes.

"WHAT?"

"Er-…sir, you're food…" She answered quietly. Her face looked horror-struck.

"DO I LOOK HUNGRY ANYMORE?!?!" Draco shouted into her face. He lashed out a fist and punched the tray, sending food flying everywhere. With one last angry shout he stormed out of the room, his black robes furling out behind him. The only sounds in the room as he left was the feeble squeaks of the elf that was now desperately trying to clean up.

**Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait on the update; I've been quite caught up lately with tests and such. Anyhow, here's the fifth chapter. I hope you enjoy it! Don't forget to Review! :)**


	6. Chapter Six: The Interference

**Hey guys! :) **

**Sorry for such the long wait between chapters! **

**The end of our school year is approaching quickly, and I'm trying to focus on my work and still make time to write. **

**Needless to say, it's not working very well. **

**BUT, here's the 6th chapter! **

**Hopefully I'll be able to update you guys sooner!**

**~Chow  
**

**Chapter Six: The Interference**

The sound of stomping feet echoed through the castle halls that night, along with several booms from slamming doors, and two particular voices demanding entrance into their House's common rooms.

"What's the password?" In a sing-song voice, the Fat Lady questioned. There was a crystal wine glass loosely held between her fingers, which resembled withered sausages. It was filled to the brim with a deep, purple liquid that emitted a pungent, foul odor into the surrounding air. Each time the Fat Lady talked or plunged into a random fit of giggles, she would send dark liquid flying down her pink dress (which, by now, had large blots of purple as well).

Standing in front of the portrait was Hermione, her arms pin-straight at her sides and her hands clenched in fists. She was, by no means, in any sort of jubilant mood. Her robe slumped off one shoulder and was instead dangling on the bend of her arm. Her face was a shade of unnatural red and her eyes were blazing with hatred.

"Ugh – is this _really _necessary? You know who I am! **Just let me in!**" The harsher side of her emerged like a werewolf bathed in the light of a full moon. She had stepped forward and was nose-to-nose with the Fat Lady, who was protected from her outburst by a seal of canvas. Hermione wouldn't dare deface school property, everybody new, even to put harm to this nuisance.

From within her portrait, the Fat Lady shook her head with a small smile. "I will," She said, a smirk growing upon her scarlet lips. "When _you_ give me the password!" Once again, she erupted into a giggle fit, spilling the remainder of her wine all over herself; there wasn't a hint of pink left on her dress.

"_**UGH!"**_ Hermione bellowed, punching the air above her head with tremendous force. "Fine! _FINE. _Waddlebird! Now, will you _please_ let me in?"

"Certainly, m'dear!" The Fat Lady chimed before swinging open. Grumbling lowly to herself, Hermione clambered into the portrait hole with speed, and was quick to trot up the stone staircase and into her dormitory. The other three girls she shared the room with were fast asleep, engulfed by think blankets with their heads peacefully resting on extra-fluffy pillows.

Hermione felt strangely unlike herself. It was as if the energy was drained from her body; her skin was pale and clammy, glistening with sweat, and her brown eyes had lost their enthusiastic shine.

Below, in front of the entrance to the Slytherin common room, Draco was pacing anxiously from left to right. His gray eyes were constantly darting from the corners of the room, while sweat gathered in the crevices of his palms. On the top of his head, his honey blonde hair was askew and stuck out in miscellaneous directions. He was repeatedly running his pale fingers through it, then tilting his head back on his trapezoids, rolling it around on his neck. The stress wouldn't leave him, however, no matter how hard he tried.

_You've really blown it this time._

It was the only thought that went through his head.

_Finally, you're alone with her – well, with the exception of the House Elves – and you decide it's a good idea to toy with her emotions?_

_How thick can you get?_

"Pretty thick, I guess," Draco growled to himself, leaning against the cold stone wall. He slid down it, his robes bunching up as he went, until his arse was even with the floor and a hood or robes towered over his head. But he didn't care – he didn't even bother to fix the black material. In fact, he sunk right into the cushion, hiding his face in shame, and then burying it into his hands. The tips of his fingers met his hair line, twisting his golden locks.

And, without even realizing it, he began to cry. Cold, clear streams of tears began to well in his eyes, each one gently rolling out of its hold and streaming down his flushed cheeks. "_I've lost her before I even had the chance to touch her! To even talk with her!" _He wailed to himself between soft sniffs as tears began to slide down his chin and onto the crevice of his muscular pectorals. _"If it hadn't been for stupid Potter and Weasel, I'd have gotten to her sooner, before I made such a horrid mistake!"_

After roughly ten minutes, the tears had ceased. Still sitting with his back to the wall and face concealed by blackness, Draco groaned to himself, wiping the remaining tears from his face with a cool hand.

"Look at me," He said to himself in a firm voice. "Look what I've become."

As if obeying himself, he scanned over his body with his glassy gray eyes.

_I don't see the change._ A voice in his head answered.

"Don't see the change?" A sick, masochistic laugh emerged from the depths of his throat as he carelessly thrust his head back. "How about this? I'm Draco Malfoy – I come from the Malfoy family. A family entirely devoted to Lord Voldemort, a family of proud Slytherin heritage, an ambitious and dark family, God damn it!" He didn't know how it happened, but he was standing now, his teeth firmly gritted. "And what would my father think," Draco hissed in a low voice that was quite sinister – it nearly matched his father's. "If he came to school at this very moment and saw me sulking, _crying_ over a stupid, mudblood witch!"

With his head back on his neck, he shouted this into the air; his eyes were closed and his hands were, once again, tightly locked in fists. He knew nobody had heard him; the dungeons were a strange place for the fact that voices rarely seemed to travel down here. Anger continued to pulse through him as he opened his eyes, staring mercilessly at the ceiling. He turned on his heel and met the wall, falling into it, crying again with tears that burned on his skin while slamming his fist repeatedly against the stone.

Rays of golden liquid poured into the warm and inviting room that was Gryffindor common room. The sun had just peaked over the thick mass of trees that made the Forbidden Forest and was now beginning to cast heat across the Hogwart's grounds. From the lengthy, narrow windows, one could spot Hagrid's humble hut. Once again, a steady puff emerged from the chimney stack, rising high into the cold winter air and blending into the dull, gray sky. The entire scene was as regular as ever, and yet it made Hermione's heart swell with affection.

"You seem upset," Came Ron's voice. It was apparent that he was struggling to sound concerned, but it his attempt had sorely failed.

Next to him, Harry lifted his emerald green eyes from his parchment, instead focusing them instead on Hermione. "Yeah," He said, pushing his glasses a bit further up on his nose. "What's bothering you?"

Hermione was seated rather distant from her two closest friends. She was close to the windows that opened the Hogwart's grounds to her view, staring out of them with a cloudy gaze. It took her awhile before she answered. "I'm fine," Curtly, she replied, before getting up and gathering her things. "I think I'm going to head to the library. I'll see you two at breakfast."

With that, she turned and left, her frizzy brown hair bouncing with every quick step.

"Something's up, eh Harry?" Ron said as her figure disappeared through the portrait hole.

Slowly, Harry nodded, his black hair following the movement of his head. "Definitely." He shoved his parchment and quill in his knapsack and stood, planting his feat firmly on the ground.

"And we're gonna go find out, huh?" Ron asked while heaving a sigh. Gradually he stood beside Harry, rolling his eyes and muttering, "_We're gonna go find out, and somehow end up in trouble, as always…_"

Chuckling a bit, he patted Ron hard on the shoulder and turned, making his way quickly toward the portrait hole. "Come on, or we'll be too late! And be quiet!"

After the pair had climbed through the exit, they had stealthily made their way down the halls, sneaking ever closer to the library. Their footsteps were nearly silent, their breathing quieter than a mouse; they were sure they wouldn't get caught.

As they neared still closer to the library, they heard the soft beat of footsteps behind them. Fearing it was Hermione or one of her other friends, Harry turned on his heal to Ron while shoving his own hand in his knapsack. "Get under!" He hissed urgently under his breath as he pulled out his Invisibility Cloak and expanded over the both of them.

"Hermione?" A cold, deep voice called down the hall, but no owner appeared.

Then, the voice sounded again, the footsteps increasing in volume. "Hermione? Is that you?"

At last, a figure emerged. It was a Slytherin girl, Eve…Harry couldn't remember her last name. She was trotting down the hallway, running from something.

"Hermione! Please listen to me!"

Eve couldn't have been the owner of the voice, Harry and Ron both thought at once. But then who was it?

Immediately their questions were answered a tall figure, clothed in dark black robes with white and green trim ran after Eve. His hair, a soft honey blond, was sweeping back with the wind, and his gray eyes were locked hard on Eve. He continued to pursue her at a speedy pace, until finally he had caught up with her.

"Listen to me! Please!" He begged, though it sounded familiarly cold and demanding. Then it hit Harry and Ron just who this was.

Draco Malfoy.

Draco had his hands firmly gripping Eve's shoulders, and her back was defiantly toward him. Fear was coursing through her thin body; her arms were abruptly shaking and her eyes were wide in terror. Meekly, she opened her mouth to protest, to inform Draco that she was not Hermione, but no sound would come out.

He spun her around, staring down into her eyes – a pale green.

The pressure of Draco's large, sweating hands increased; he gripped her so tightly that she whimpered in pain, her body shriveling as she tried to wrench out of his grasp. "I-I'm sorry!" She pleaded to him quietly, crumpling herself to the floor. He loomed over her, casting a long, eerie shadow over her skinny frame. "I'm not Hermione!"

Draco moved over her, slowly pinning her to the floor with a muscular grasp. As much as Eve struggled, she could not manage to free herself. His gray eyes were now filled with extreme anger that flared up as violently as a tornado. They swiveled and whirled with ire, continuing to severely build, until he was shouting right into Eve's petite face.

"_Damn right you're not Hermione, you stupid bitch!_" Was the first thing he howled, breathing fiercely down her neck while his muscles rippled; he was pushing down harder on her and she was finding it hard to breath. Tears welled at the edges of her dull green eyes, streaming down her cheeks – why was this happening to her? Was he mad?

In a rush of bravery, Harry pulled the silky cloth from over his body. Aiming his piercing emerald stare straight on Draco, he approached with long, determined strides. "Let her go, Malfoy," His voice was firm as he said this; it was an order, not a request.

For a moment, silence floated in the air surrounding them, a stinging silence that was writhing with anticipation. Ever so slowly, Draco closed his eyes, taking in a deep, thoughtful breath. "Ah, why if it isn't poor little Potter, and his partner the Weasle King. Always burying their noses into something that isn't their business," His voice crawled from his throat, a low, irritated grumble that vibrated in Adam's apple gently. Eventually, Draco opened his eyes and gradually shifted his gaze upward, locking eyes with The Boy Who Lived.

Harry's gaze did not falter. "Let her go," He repeated.

"And if I don't?" Draco spat in return, chuckling mockingly to himself. "What are _you_ gonna do about it? I'm a prefect, remember?" He removed his hand from Eve's right shoulder, guiding it to the gleaming pin shining brilliantly against his black robes. With a sly smirk, he outlined the badge with his forefinger, just trying to agitate Potter as much as he possibly could.

"And so am I," Ron said from his place behind Harry.

Immediately, Draco burst out in hard laughter, having to clutch his stomach with his free hand. Eve wrenched beneath him, trying with all her will, but she couldn't manage to break free of him and just for her luck, her wand was back in her dorm. "You're a poor excuse for a prefect, Weasley," He retorted, his smirk growing wider on his pale, cold face.

Ron's face instantly turned a bright shade of red similar to his hair. In a moments time he was back in his place, hiding behind Harry once more.

"Go ahead and give me detention, Malfoy," Harry spat back. "I've had enough of those this year, I'm sure a few more from you can't hurt." While he said this, he held up his left hand; a silver scar with quite legible words that read '_I must not tell lies' _was carved into the flesh there.

Particularly interested now, Draco raised an eyebrow and laughed. He opened his lips, thin and twitching at its ends, to deliver a pleasing detention; but when he began to form the words, a different sound emerged.

A feminine voice, with a know-it-all tone lacing every vowel and consonant, flowed smoothly into the air. The owner of the voice could not be yet seen, though her light footsteps were just audible. "Harry? Ron? Is that you? Who are you talking to?" At the sound of her words, the figures in the corridor froze. Even Eve, held captive beneath Draco's muscular body, knew who it was.

The footsteps began to draw steadily closer, increasing in volume and pace. "I could have sworn I heard you Harry!" Once more, she called to the group. Steadily, a smile grew on Harry's face. He turned and met Ron's eye, and mouthed slowly, "_Now we'll find out what Malfoy is up to!"_

Finally, the figure turned the corner. Everyone was certain it was Hermione by her matter-of-fact voice, but seeing her frizzy hair and large brown eyes only proved them right – not to mention the books she was cradling in her arms was a dead giveaway. At first, she only spotted Harry and Ron, and to them both she flashed an affectionate smile. But as her gaze drifted to Draco, overtop of Eve and pinning her down to the floor, she gasped in alarm.

Draco knew it was her when she was coming – but what was he to do? Frozen with terror, his muscles instantly became stiff, unbendable. He couldn't move, he couldn't do anything at all.

**Bit of a cliffie! ;) **

**Don't forget to R&R!  
**


	7. Chapter Seven: The Broom Closet

**Hey guys! Really,_ really_ sorry about the delay! I know I keep saying I'll update more often, and I'm sorry I haven't lived up to that. I'll continue to try, but honestly, I'm quite busy.**

**Anyhow, this chapters a bit short, but I hope you enjoy it.  
**

**Chapter Seven: The Broom Closet  
**

Draco could feel the tension swelling in the air of the narrow halls. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Potter and Weasley exchanging satisfied looks; Hermione was staring with her mouth gaping.

He couldn't move. Every muscle in his body, from his head to his toes, was locked in place. Nerves throughout him twitched anxiously, sweat leaked from his pores. His eyes were glued on Hermione – her usually gentle face now replaced with a look of pure distain.

At first, nothing seemed real to her. She didn't believe her eyes; she knew Malfoy was always bad news, but this…she hadn't ever seen it coming. And then, very slowly, a tingling feeling prickled the skin on her feet, gradually rising through her body. As it reached her arms, they fell limp; the books she was cradling spilling onto the floor below.

"Wha-…" She tried to speak, but couldn't find the words to express the emotions stirring inside her. Closing her mind, she searched her mind for _something_ to say.

Draco closed his eyes, taking in a large breath. Everything bad seemed to happen to him. _Never_, he thought to himself, _will I get the chance to be with Granger. I've blown it again._

"Malfoy's just attacked this girl," Harry said sourly, pointing at Eve and breaking the silence.

Hermione's eyelids flew open instantly – her knapsack, which was slung over her shoulder hording at least ten books, fell to the ground with a loud _thud._

With finality in her voice, she locked eyes with Draco. "Get off her."

He obeyed, climbing off Eve. She came to life immediately; breathing heavily, scrambling from her place on the floor. Taking her knapsack in her hand, she slung the gray bag over her right shoulder in a rush. A few quills dropped, but she didn't bother to gather them. With a last, fearful gander at Malfoy, she scurried away, not caring where she was going as long as she was away from that monstrous crowd.

Draco had been absentmindedly staring at her as she left; the horrid thoughts wouldn't leave his head. Images of himself, a lonely fifth year walking the halls companionless while couples snogged all around him, floated through his head. And Hermione, holding the hand of Viktor Krum and kissing his lips tenderly while leaning against the large, oak doors that guarded Hogwarts. The imagery made Draco's stomach bubble in disgust.

"Come with me," From her place at the end of the hallway, Hermione commanded. Her voice was slightly shaky.

Draco didn't hear her, he _couldn't_ hear her. The thoughts blocked his senses; his eyes were glossy and clouded, sweat pooled in the palms of his hands.

"Malfoy!"

Draco came back to his senses. He blinked his gray eyes rapidly, trying to regain focus. Reluctantly, he turned toward Hermione, staring into her brown orbs.

"Did you hear me?"

He shook his head as to say '_no'_.

Hermione glared at him. "I said come with me."

Not wanting to argue, he followed her as she trailed from the hall. Potter and Weasley glowered at him as he walked by. Neither of them said a word.

Hermione's frizzy hair and black robes furled out behind her as she briskly trotted through the halls. Her wand was in her hand, and, Draco noticed, her knapsack and books were still in the hallway with Potter and Weasley. He assumed they would take them back to the common room for her.

"Keep up," Hermione's voice sounded ahead of him. Hurrying his pace, he neared closer to her backside. She took no notice of him, her eyes determinedly fixed on the hall ahead of her.

Without warning, she made an abrupt turn, making her way into a tightly packed closet. Draco followed suit, nearly ramming into the wall of the small vacancy.

Brooms leaned against the stone walls and white cobwebs dangled from the corners of the ceiling. A few robes were hanging from hooks on the walls and a box containing Quidditch balls sat, dusty and cold, in the corner. A small chain swayed leisurely in front of his pale face; he followed it with his gray eyes until it met with round light bulb. Just as his eyes met the object, light poured from the bulbous object, a glow lighting up the dinky room.

"Why?" Hermione demanded in a whisper.

Draco ran his eyes down from the light bulb to its chain, and finally to Hermione's hand on the very end of it. He avoided her eyes; he was certain that if he looked into them, he'd flush bright red and crack under the pressure. This wasn't like him. He never had gotten so worked up about anyone before.

Hermione's eyes danced with angry flames as she stared into his bleach-blond hair. "Why, Malfoy, did you do that to her?"

"Because," He said simply, feeling hot, sticky sweat gather on his forehead.

"Elaborate," Growling, Hermione stepped closer to him. Draco could narrowly see that her hands were in fists, straining to slam her knuckles into his face. It reminded him bitterly of the time she had slapped him hard in their third year; he didn't want her to hit him again.

Gradually but deliberately, he lifted his head until his stone-gray eyes met her brown ones. Her thin eyebrows were furrowed; her brow was deeply lined with suppressed gall and her cheeks a bright pink. Hermione's stance, her appearance…it all emitted the foulest of rage.

But he didn't want her to be mad. No, not anymore mad than she already was. He'd done enough to her, Draco knew, and to make her even angrier would be ridiculous. Summing up the courage, he inhaled a large breath and opened his thin lips to speak.

"I thought she was you," Directly to her face, he said it loud and clear.

The look on Hermione's face that followed was one of confusion. One of her eyebrows raised higher than the other, her lips pulled tight and her cheek twitched slightly. Her expression was hard to read; Draco couldn't tell whether she was angry or surprised, perhaps both, and maybe she was just plain confused. Nevertheless, he continued on, closing his eyes as he spoke with great bravery.

"I thought she was you, Hermione," Draco began, heaving a sigh. "I've been trying to get your attention for at least two months, if not more. But with Potter and Weasley around, I haven't had much of a chance." She stared at him with wide, brown eyes. "Four years ago, when I first saw you on the Hogwart's Express, I loathed you. I hated you like I thought I couldn't hate anyone before. You were smart, too smart, and to make it worse, a filthy mudblood." A frown instantly appeared on her face. "Even last year I disliked you. Teachers favored and praised you because you knew every answer before they even asked the question, and the attention you received from being that stupid Potter's best friend bugged the shit out of me. But now…" He opened his eyes slowly to meet hers, fearing the reaction she would after he finally let out the truth.

"But now I don't hate you, Hermione. I don't think I ever could again. You're brilliant, you're caring, you don't let others stand in your way…" Gingerly, he found her hands with his own, gently cupping them in the curve of his palm. To his surprise, she didn't pull them away, but continued to stare blankly into his eyes. "I've never liked a person the way I like you. Hell, I've rarely ever liked a person. But I can't explain it, the attraction I feel to you now…I haven't any logical reason for it, it just surged through me at the beginning of this year and I've been attempting to pursue it since…"

He ended awkwardly, though he did not look down. His eyes remained locked with hers, studying her face, trying to make some emotion of her expression. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn't.

Hermione stood there with her hands in his, her body closer to Draco's than she had ever thought it would be. Somehow, even though he'd said it clear as daylight, she couldn't comprehend his words. Draco Malfoy…like her? Preposterous. She knew very well that a Malfoy would never be caught dead with a muggle-born witch like herself, no matter how smart or beautiful she was. And that was another thing; he'd never thought she was beautiful. To him, as far as she knew, she was simply a know-it-all mudblood, that couldn't keep her mouth shut for two seconds, even if her life depended on it.

But here, right now, the unthinkable was happening. Never in her life would she have thought that a high-class, Slytherin boy like Draco would fall for her. Not once had she thought it to be probable. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply, trying to make sense of it all, or wake up from this disturbed dream…

The sudden rush of hot air on her neck made her gasp, unprepared for the sensation. Cautiously, barley even daring to, she opened her eyes slightly to find Malfoy's face beside her neck, breathing slow and steadily. He pulled her in close to his chest, his well-defined, warm and muscular body.

Something inside her made her suddenly forget her morals, her thoughts against Draco…she willingly leaned into him, hesitantly at first, laying her head against his shoulder and taking a long, steady breath of air. He wrapped his arms around the small of her back and held her to him while his fingers running through her frizzy, brown curls.

And then is voice, a soft, gentle voice much unlike his usual tone, whispered something that even Hermione could not ever have dreamed to hear from him in her wildest fantasies.

"_I love you, Hermione."_

**Bit of a cliffie! Sorry, but it had to be done. ;) R&R!**


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